


Loss of a Lover

by bountifulsilences



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie) Spoilers, Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, Grief/Mourning, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Not Canon Compliant, Sad Ending, Steve Rogers Feels, THE SPOILERS IN THIS ARE UNREAL, THIS CONTAINS MAJOR SPOILERS FOR INFINITY WAR, infinity war fix-it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-26
Updated: 2018-04-26
Packaged: 2019-04-28 08:35:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,460
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14445462
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bountifulsilences/pseuds/bountifulsilences
Summary: All it took was a click of a finger and everything turned to dust.





	Loss of a Lover

**Author's Note:**

> you know I had to fix that scene at the end. you know I couldn't leave it like that. this isn't great but with all the fix-its on their way and already here, you're going to have a variety soon!
> 
> all mistakes are my own. hope you enjoy my (super rushed and briefly edited) canon remake! (I just made it...more dramatic and gay lol)

His head was _pounding_ , an incessant thrum of pain vibrating through the narrow passages of his brain and begging to be released. His fingers, sore from clenching the shields tightly in both hands gravitated to it and touched the scorching skin harshly, knowing that he had to get up.

Thanos was...was gone and Thor was still there, stubbornly quiet in the anguished silence and glued to his position. Groaning, Steve rolled over and opened his eyes, sunlight blaring into his sensitive iris. He winced but refused to curl into a ball, pushing his body onto arms and knees before he used his last energy reserve to get onto his feet.

Thor was to his right, stoic and emotionless, mismatched eyes empty and void of the mirth that usually warmed him like a blanket in the ice. Staggering to him, Steve breathed deeply and alerted the God of his presence.

Ever since he had returned, an axe deposited on wood in one hand and with companions nothing like Steve had ever seen before, Steve knew that the Thor he knew was currently unavailable. Anger, remorse, and other desolate emotions smothered him until an entity unchallengeable was left.

The rest of the warriors and Avengers alike were scattered on the ground, comatose but breathing. Steve couldn’t find them yet, had to decipher what was happening and what they had to do, but his team needed some time to relax and now was the perfect opportunity.

“Thor,” he called, ashamed of the slight wheeze in the back of his throat but decidedly ignored it. “Thor, where is he?”

Unresponsive, Thor stared blankly at the ground, fingers clenching on the wooden handle of his axe unknowingly. Steve’s eyes watched it and suddenly remembered the long missions which bruised his own lean fingers, reminiscent of a shield that was no longer in his grasp.

“Thor,” he tried again, and stepping closer to him. Thor seemed to register his presence more efficiently. “Where did Thanos go? What was the- the wind and the portal and the-”

“I... I don’t know,” Thor confessed, voice hoarse and grief struck. Looking up to Steve, his eye was drowning in despair. “I struck him with my axe, yet he lives. It’s the stones, he has acquired them all.”

Steve tried to regulate his breathing at the harsh reminder of Vision loss, the corpse being cradled by a wounded Wanda. Exhaling sharply through his nose, he said, “can we find him? There’s gotta be somethi-”

“No,” a weak voice protested from his left, interjecting his train of thought. “No, no, no!”

Immediately his eyes zoned in on the source and saw Wanda’s hand shrivel into ash, her staring at the decay in horror. Visions face was placed on her lap as she had no doubt been cradling it, and slowly, a mountain of black embers decorated his lifeless skin. He looked tranquil in death, Steve thought distantly, finally at peace after a hectic couple of hours.

The same could not be said of Wanda, who continued to shrivel, burnt remains loitering on the ground. She looked back at him, confusion delving in her iris but also a grim acceptance of her fate, as now they both knew whatever it was could not be stopped.

Still, Steve moved to comfort her in the passing but missed by a moment's hesitation, as she disintegrated leaving her remains for Vision to lie in. It was tragic, and Steve felt bile from the depth of his stomach rise. They were so young, had so much to see and achieve and _become_. They didn’t deserve such a fate. No one did.

“Steve?”

Bucky, his mind prompted. Dread consumed him for a terrified second as he turned and saw Bucky staring at him in confusion and helplessness, arms up to showcase the flesh deteriorating into cinders of everything Steve had ever truly loved and wanted. His words got caught in his throat.

His eyes never leaving Bucky’s, he rushed over to him, fingers scaling his face and travelling all over his body, panicked at the loss of limbs. No, no, this couldn’t be happening. He had just gotten him back, Thanos could not take him from Steve.

“Bucky,” he breathed, hopeless and guilty. “Bucky, I-”

He couldn’t do anything. He was nothing, an ordinary man with his blazing fists and two shields courtesy of T’Challa. Whatever force was doing this ( _Thanos_ , his mind supplied) was unstoppable, and Steve had nothing to counter the effect of the stones. He was failing Bucky, _again_.

Destroying his brittle heart further, Bucky smiled timidly, exhaustion resuming its seat on his face, accepting the fate that awaited him. His eyes told stories of endless suffering, sleep foregoing him every night, memories reclaiming his mind day by day. It had been years since Hydra, but recovery was a lifelong process for them. That much he could see etched on the face of the only man he had ever loved.

“It’s fine Stevie,” Bucky consoled him, lopsided smile bearing so much weight. “We gotta reach the end of the line sometime.”

“No,” he feebly objected, trying to ignore the abdomen that was growing lighter under his fingertips. “Don’t say that, this isn’t the end.”

“I wish I could stay, show you some of the flowers I planted, but guess fate has some other plans for me,” Bucky replied with a careless shrug, embodying everything Steve was worried would happen.

“You can still show me the flowers, Buck. I’m sure the King won’t mind if we- if we-” Steve stuttered, eyes closing on their own accord and holding the tears at bay. “He won’t mind if we take a break.”

“No,” Bucky agreed, voice strained now. “No, he won’t. He’s a kind ruler, compassionate. Just like you.”

Steve tried to contain his emotions, tried to focus on Bucky who was for all purposes _dying_ right in front of him but couldn’t. The words fumbled in his mind and shrivelled in his throat, suffocating the reassurances he didn’t feel.

He threw himself on Bucky, all muscle and fat dispersed on his upper body and reeled his best friend in, arms securely wrapped across his shoulders and face burrowing into his neck. Steve tried to breathe normally, but his breaths quivered, and chest convulsed, hypervigilant to the sensations he was no longer feeling.

“Please don’t leave me Buck, not again. I can’t do this without you, please Bucky, please,” he begged, scrambling to find more of him to hold but failing.

“Hey- hey, look at me. Come on Steve, we’re running out of time here, look at my face sweetheart,” Bucky whispered in his ears urgently, the air cold and no longer warm and Jesus he was losing _him_.

Pulling back, he stared at Bucky’s eyes, unashamed of his wet ones and held his gaze, capturing the gorgeous blue sky, swirling with fresh oceanic waters, and listened to what he had to say. Stomping on the shards of his sanity, Bucky was almost completely gone.

“You can do this Steve, all right? You can always do it. With or without me punk. And I just want you to know, I love you, okay? Never forget that. Especially not when you’re kicking that purple grapes ass, you know?”

“Language,” he chided, just to bring a genuine smile on Bucky’s face and he did, a pleasant laugh warming the air beneath them. “I love you too Buck. So damn much it hurts.”

Cradling Bucky’s head with his hands, he closed his eyes and pressed their callous lips together, Steve savouring the moment of heat and the feeling of Bucky being there, alive, just not in one piece. As he urged to deepen the kiss, Bucky’s seemingly vaporized, leaving flecks of ash in his place as they delicately descended onto him.

Sighing, arms falling to his side growing limp, he didn’t open his eyes and stood in the ashes of his love, so so tired. Star-crossed lovers, that was what Sam called them, defying the odds of life itself to meet each other again and again, regardless of the time and century and themselves.

Steve hated thinking as such, but as Sam’s words powered through his mind, he mournfully thought there was no more defying of the odds. They had finally met their match- Thanos, and nobody could be revived from the atrocity he unleashed. Infinity stones or not.

Wiping his eyes, he felt an arm grip his shoulder comfortingly. Stiffening at the contact, he didn’t say anything, knowing that Thor was just as spooked as him. Gazing at the trees in the far distance, he knew what he had to do. Avenge Bucky at any cost. Thanos would not survive another battle.

(And quite possibly, he wouldn’t either.)

**Author's Note:**

> tumblr:  bountifulsilences   
> twitter:  AwestruckBuck 


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